


One Lazy Afternoon

by blakefancier



Series: Young Lovers [43]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-12
Updated: 2013-12-12
Packaged: 2018-01-04 09:50:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1079527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blakefancier/pseuds/blakefancier
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony and Rhodey hang out and Dummy makes a mess.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Lazy Afternoon

It took a month of whining and wheedling, but Howard had finally given Tony a bit of space for his own workshop. It wasn't much, but he liked it. He crouched on the floor, tightening a nut on Dummy's chassis while Rhodey sat on the couch, looking though a copy of Popular Mechanics.

"How does that feel?" he asked, sitting back on his heels. 

Dummy rolled around and waved his arm, knocking over a can of oil.

"Really, Dummy? Really? God, you're a menace. I don't even know why I bother with you. No, no, leave it alone. You're just gonna—" Tony groaned as Dummy made an even bigger mess as he tried to clean up. "You know what? Go to the corner. No. Go!" Tony pointed to said corner.

Dummy hooted forlornly, his arm drooping.

"You're gonna give that thing a complex, Tones," Rhodey said, looking up from the magazine. 

Tony mopped up the oil with a couple of rags. "Do I criticize your parenting skills?"

"That's one sad looking kid." Rhodey gave Dummy a skeptical look; Tony felt a wave of protectiveness.

"Don't listen to him, Dummy. You look amazing." Tony dropped the sodden rags on his workbench and wiped his hands on his jeans. "Now who's gonna give him a complex. " He strode over to the couch and flopped down on it. "We should get something to eat before I drop you off at the train station: burgers or pizza or something."

"Mr. Jarvis fed us not two hours ago." 

"Yeah, but…" Tony shrugged. "You know, I could still drive you home. Why take the train when you could ride in style?"

"The train is fine." Rhodey gave him a knowing smile and put an arm around his shoulders. "I'll be home for Christmas. We'll see each other then." 

Tony leaned his head back so that it lolled against Rhodey's arm. "We didn't even get to blow anything up this visit."

"We'll blow something up next time."

"You always say that and we never do."

Rhodey laughed and gently squeezed his shoulders. "You threw a great party, we got drunk, and neither one of us woke up in our own vomit. I count this visit as a win."

"Yean." He smiled. "That was a good party. And the cleaning service did a great job. Dad'll never even know." Rhodey opened his mouth and Tony covered it with his hand. "Dad. Will. Never. Know."

"Okay, Tony, if you say so." Rhodey muttered something about Tony being deluded. Or maybe it was how Tony looked better nude. "Speaking of your dad."

"No!" he said, his voice sharp. He pulled away from Rhodey and got to his feet. Suddenly, he wanted to be moving. 

"Tony."

"I don't want to talk about it, okay. I don't want to talk about my dad's sex life, or how he's fucking one of my best friends, or how it's okay for me to be mad. I'm not mad." He grabbed a fistful of tools and began putting them away. 

"You sound mad," Rhodey said gently. 

"I'm not fucking mad, I'm just tired of talking about it." He glared at the wrench in his hand. 

"Okay, well, if you do want to talk about it, you know I'll listen." Rhodey cleared his throat. "That's not even what I wanted to talk about anyway."

"It wasn't?" He tensed slightly, then slumped forward, bracing his hands on the workbench. "Then what did you want to talk about?" 

"I wanted to know if you talked to him about grad school." 

Tony laughed at that, feeling bitterness swell up again. God, he should never have told Rhodey about wanting to go back and get a doctorate. "Yeah, yeah, I talked to him."

"It didn't go well?"

"Understatement." He looked over at Rhodey, who was staring at him with concern. "Tony, he said, don't be ridiculous. You're a genius, you don't need a doctorate. I don't have a doctorate; your grandfather didn’t have a doctorate; your great-grandfather, who built up this business by sweat of his brow didn't need a doctorate. Some day, you'll take over this company from me. You need to start learning the family business. Blah, blah, blah." 

Rhodey made a face. "What about your mom?" 

"She just asked what Dad thought." Tony let out an exasperated breath. 

Rhodey got to his feet and walked over. He touched Tony's shoulder, squeezing it gently. "You know, you don't actually need your dad's permission once you turn eighteen. And it's not like you couldn’t pay for it yourself." 

"Yeah, I guess." He shrugged. "I don't know, I was gonna ask again when Steve went off to college. And hey, if not, I'm still better off than most kids my age, right? I got a job that I don't hate." 

"That' s true." Rhodey ruffled his hair; Tony protested loudly. "Let's go get a burger before you drop me off. I'm hungry again."


End file.
